How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Fifteen: Bus Ride

November 15 1978

I stayed with Stelle all night and all of the next day. Her room had a washing machine and a dryer so we didn't even have to leave the room to do laundry. They operated by coins though, much like at a laundromat. Finally my clothes got the wash they so needed. I picked out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a picture of Astro from the Jetsons on it and put them on. 

Stelle also wasn't kidding about her room service bill. For breakfast and lunch she pulled out all the stops. Chicken and beef and veggies and eggs and everything in between. I was shocked my jeans still fit! She ordered a bottle of champagne for the night and I declined. "Suit yourself," she said. "Angus doesn't seem to like it either."

Oh, I know...

Stelle put on a swipe of lipstick and hung her camera around her neck. She was dressed a little more impressive than I was but I just wanted to be comfortable. Bus rides were not my favorite without my medicine. I'd be sure to sit up front.

Where the party wasn't.

With her camera and my notepad we left the hotel room and took the long walk to the other hotel. Stelle would once in a while snap a photo of something on the way, usually a glowing sign or the large bus that drove by advertising MILO. It was toasty out and the sun was still low in the sky without any sign of setting. "I can't wait for summer," Stelle said. "Are you staying here then?"

What could I say? I had no clue. "I don't know," I said keeping my eyes straight ahead. "I should probably just go home and type up the article."

"Oh, you should stay for the summer! I would but I've got the Scorpions to shoot." We finally made it to the hotel where the boys were staying. 

"Who are we looking for?" I asked.

"Cliff if we're lucky," she said. "If not him, a roadie of some sort."

There were a few other women there in the lobby of the hotel dressed very nicely. Some in dresses and some were in jeans like I was. Some had their hair feathered or straightened with clips while a few of them just tied their messy hair up like I did. There were a few men talking to them, mostly directing their attention to the women wearing small dresses. 

But we were all groupies. None of us were better than the others even if some got more attention. We were all here to support our favorite band, no matter if we were "hot" or "not". Male attention didn't define our worth.

The third rule of groupies is

3. We women support other women.

We're girls' girls. If a lady wants to do her makeup like Stelle, let her. If she wants to go without like me, that's fine too. Dressing a certain way may get more attention from the men but it doesn't make them any better nor does it make them any worse. Dressing like a nun doesn't make anyone more holy.

The band were nowhere to be seen. Once again. Stelle led me over to the hotel bar and we finally saw Cliff there with another guy. "Aha, there he is!" Stelle said scurrying over to him. "Cliff!"

He turned around at the sound of his name. "Hey, it's you two," he said waving us over. We took a couple of seats next to him. He was drinking a small glass of wine. "You two comin' with us?"

"Of course we are, right, Hannah?" I smiled and nodded. As usual, I would not be driving the conversation tonight. The hotel bar was small; just large enough to accommodate a few small groups. The lights were on low overhead giving the room an evening glow. The bartender came up to us but Stelle kindly dismissed him. Thank goodness. "We're on duty right now so anything you want to offer in terms of photograph or interview you should do it now."